A Darker Shade of Grey
by Felinae Silvestris
Summary: Thedas is in chaos, after a Blight and the Mage/Templar war. King Alistair is murdered in cold blood, but perhaps all is not as it seems.
1. Prologue  Murder Most Foul

**A/N: Well, it's about damn time I posted something else, is it not? Been sitting on this one for a while, ever since finishing DA2 - be aware that there are many spoilers ahead as this fic will feature characters from both games and it is set after the ending of DA2. I know some people care about pairings, so the established relationships at the moment include: Aedan Cousland and Zevran; and Anders and Hawke. They are not central to the story however.  
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><p><strong>Prologue - Murder Most Foul<strong>

Alistair awoke suddenly, gasping loudly, as if he had been dropped head first into icy water. He looked around the dark room, lit only by the fading embers in the fireplace. He was alone in the royal chambers, unsurprisingly, but he did not feel like it. Old battle instincts warred with common sense, and the King closed his eyes for a moment, willing his thumping heart to slow down. He opened his eyes again, yelping with fright. Someone stood over his bed, a dagger glinting menacingly in the dim light of the room. Sparks of lightning traced it's surface, and the familiar weapon was held by a familiar man. Alistair could scarcely believe it was him, his mind told him it was a friend, but his instincts were screaming that something was very wrong.

"What- What are you doing?"

"I'm sorry, old friend. Truly sorry."

"Why? What's going on?"

"It's just business, Alistair. I'm sure you understand."

"Wait! I-"

"You will understand."

Before he could move, he felt the cold dragonbone slicing through his flesh like a hot knife through butter. It burned and froze all at once, eliminating his scream before it could escape. The blackness came quickly, and Good King Alistair did not see the regretful expression on the face of a trusted friend. He was already gone.

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><p>The nobles that could be called quickly were gathered in the Landsmeet hall. It was impressive, Teagan thought, how many they had called within a short day. Not that it felt short, today had probably been one of the longest of his life. For those who could not be present, messengers had been dispatched. The Landsmeet proper was to be called in one month, but until then, there was an important announcement to make to the nobles of Ferelden they could recall. Teagan watched his brother stand before them, dark circles and pale complexion belying his fatigued state. Eamon looked broken.<p>

"Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you for coming at such short notice. I have sent messengers to those who could not be here, but I have important news which cannot wait. The Landsmeet will be called early this year, in precisely one month's time. The reason for this, is... King Alistair is dead." Eamon's voice broke towards the end. As expected, this was news to everyone in the hall, and it took a full five minutes for the shocked outbursts and chatter to fade.

"He was found in the early hours of this morning, murdered in his own bed. We are still investigating who could have done this. Until such time as we are able to agree on a succession, I will be acting as young Duncan's regent. If anyone has any information on who may have done this, please come to me at any time. The Royal Funeral will be held at the end of the week, for all of those who wish to attend. Good day to you."

The nobles began to file out, talking in hushed whispers about the news they had just been given. Teagan nudged his way through the crowd until he could reach out and catch Fergus Cousland's arm.

"Teyrn Cousland, I wish to speak with you about an important matter," he whispered. Fergus nodded and waited until the others had left before following Teagan and Eamon to an antechamber.

"What's the matter Eamon?" Fergus said, looking between the two brothers worriedly.

"I wish I knew how to say this. Fergus... when was the last time you saw your brother?"

"Aedan? A few months ago, he was heading to Antiva. Why?" Fergus paled, looking panicked. "You don't think he's been..."

"No," Eamon said, clearing his throat, "There is no easy way to do this. Teagan?"

Teagan stepped forward, producing a small package wrapped in linen. He laid it on the desk in front of them, and Fergus noted a small spot of blood on the linen. Teagan opened it carefully. "This is the dagger used to kill Alistair. Tell me you don't recognise it," Eamon said.

Fergus looked, gripping the edge of the desk until his knuckles turned white. He shook his head defiantly. "No. No way. It's not possible, Eamon. They were friends, pracitcally brothers. There's no way he would do this."

"I had my own doubts Fergus, but you cannot deny what this looks like," Eamon said kindly. He had a point, the dagger was coated in dried blood. It was clearly recognisable as one of the enchanted unique blades that Aedan Cousland, the Hero of Ferelden, was never seen without.

"Why though? What possible reason could Aedan have to kill Alistair?"

"I have no idea. I am as confused as you are, but the facts remain."

Fergus stared at the dagger for a long moment, as if trying to comprehend what had occured. "What will we do?"

"I have sent a messenger to Amaranthine, I don't expect we'll find Aedan there but perhaps we can find out something. The messenger is due back soon." Eamon said. A knock sounded on the door, and Teagan dutifully answered it. He held the door open and Nathaniel Howe walked through the door, his expression much more grim than usual.

"Forgive me, Arl Eamon, I took the liberty of coming in person. After reading your letter, I had to speak with you."

"I did not expect... thank you for coming."

"The messenger spoke of King Alistair's death. I am deeply sorry for his loss, he was a good man." Nathaniel spoke sincerely, glancing at Fergus who looked ghastly. His eyes travelled to the bloodied dagger laying on the desk, blood draining from his face as recognition set in. "No. Not possible."

"We don't know what else to think." Teagan offered miserably.

"Aedan would never... I know he's done some questionable things, but he is not a murderer."

"He is trained as an assassin," Fergus said brokenly.

"As am I. Regardless, he has never killed a man who did not deserve it," Nathaniel said pointedly. "I cannot believe for one second that Alistair would have done something to deserve this."

"No-one can. Gentlemen, if you would please keep this to yourselves for now. I do not wish our suspicions to become public knowledge, until we know what is going on." Eamon said. The others nodded their agreement.

"I need a stiff drink," Fergus said suddenly, getting to his feet.

"Right behind you," Nathaniel agreed, following the Teyrn out of the door. The two men had long since gotten over their differences, after Nathaniel saved Fergus' life and they agreed that Rendon Howe had deserved to have his cowardly throat slit by Aedan. It would be little comfort, but they understood each other well enough.

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><p>Nathaniel was awake when the knock at his door came, he rarely slept these days. It was an urgent knock, the kind that just could not be ignored. He opened the door to find Fergus standing there looking harried. He frowned, it was the middle of the night. What else could have happened? Before he could ask, Fergus had all but dragged him along the hall, urging him to 'Just come.' He followed Fergus to the small chapel within the Palace, where a vigil had been kept for two days. It was where King Alistair lay, while preparations were made for the pyre. Two Templar guards had been on watch at all times.<p>

They arrived to find Eamon and Teagan and a very upset looking Mother.

"What has happened?" Nathaniel asked, looking around.

"The worst. The body, it is gone."

"What do you mean, gone?" Fergus demanded.

"It is gone. See for yourself."

The two men entered the room, and indeed the stone slab upon which Alistair had been resting was empty. Nathaniel looked around and on either side of the altar the templar guards lay prone. He walked over to the nearest one, pulling his helmet off and listening close. He could hear the man's shallow breathing. "They're alive," he said, noticing a wooden cup spilled next to the man's hand. He picked it up, a small amount of it's contents remained. Ale, he noted, but something was off. He knew he was being watched, but he had to know. He dipped a finger in the remaining liquid, touching it to his tongue and tasting it. He thought for a moment, then spat next to the body.

"Adficio torporum. A sleeping draught, Adds a little spice to the ale," Nathaniel said, "These men were drugged. Far too easily, it seems. They will awaken in time, when the poison wears off."

"Something is very wrong here," Fergus announced, echoing everyone's thoughts. With the King dead, and now missing, Ferelden was going to have a lot of problems when word got out about this.


	2. Chapter 1  A Difficult Deception

**Chapter 1 - A Difficult Deception  
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"He's coming to."

The voice sounded very far away, as if at the end of a long tunnel. His head felt fuzzy, as if it had been stuffed with wool. His mouth was bone dry and his eyes felt gritty. He opened them, and the light broke through, his blurred vision causing a throbbing headache to begin. Blinking a few times helped bring the world into focus. A bright light made him wince in pain but iIt was quickly soothed. _Magic_, his befuddled senses told him. It helped, and the throbbing ceased. He looked up to see Aedan standing over him, again, a frown of concern on his face.

"Where am I?" his voice grated in his throat, coming out a hoarse whisper in contrast to the harsh demand he'd intended. A cup was held to his lips.

"It's just water, with a little elfroot. Drink," Aedan said, and truthfully Alistair was grateful for it. He fixed Aedan with a stare.

"Tell me, what is going on?" he demanded. He tried to get up, groaning when he realised he was tied to the chair. The memory came flooding back, his friend in his bedroom, stabbing him in the gut, apologising for the act while he did it. "Aedan, what did you do to me?"

"I'm sorry, Alistair. Truly," he said, and he had the grace to look guilty. "There was no time to explain, I couldn't risk one of your guards hearing. Please forgive me old friend, I only did what was necessary."

"Since when is kidnapping me necessary?," Alistair spluttered indignantly.

"It's a long story. Be glad I got to you first, before the real assassin. I had no time to try to warn you, it was the best plan we could implement quickly."

"What plan?"

"When we learned of what was to happen... we had to act and quickly. To Ferelden, you are dead. We had to let them think you dead, so I used Mors Victus, Living Death. A strange poison, it makes a person look dead but keeps them alive."

"Why? Why do all this? To stop someone from actually killing me?"

"Not only that, Alistair. It is a false trail, a game of cat and mouse, si? The person who ordered your death will be very angry that someone got to you first, and they will make a mistake. They will lead themselves right to us, like a lamb to the slaughter." Alistair followed the new voice to see Zevran watching from the window.

"How will they come to you?" Alistair asked.

Aedan smirked. "Clumsy me, in my hurry to escape I left my dagger behind. I expect Eamon will have it by now," he explained.

"But surely he will-"

"Recognise it? Yes, I am counting on that."

"Mi amor, he did. Our spy in the palace informed me that he has spoken at length with Fergus and Nathaniel Howe. They were both summoned to the chapel in the early hours of this morning when Alistair was found to be missing."

Aedan frowned a little at that. "Good."

"You don't look too happy about it," Alistair muttered sarcastically.

"I'm not. I do not enjoy decieving them, nor did I relish doing what I did," Aedan said seriously, a glance at the bandage wrapped around Alistair's torso.

"Nate is going to kill you when he finds out what you've done," another voice joined the conversation. Alistair had not even thought to look for another person, but the healing spell had to come from turned his head to look at the mage.

"You remember Anders?" Aedan said wryly.

Alistair nodded. "The apostate you conscripted. Sure I do."

"Are you feeling alright? No lasting effects from the poison?" Anders asked.

"I'm fine. Thank you. So... are you going to let me out of this chair?" Alistair asked conversationally, shooting Aedan a glare.

"I will, if you promise to stay and hear me out. We have a lot to tell you, and I doubt you'll like any of it." Aedan said. Alistair gave a sigh.

"Fine, I promise. But this better be good." He didn't have much choice did he? He thought of his son, Duncan, what would they have told him? He was too young to be King, too young to really understand. "Incredibly good," he amended. He shook out his wrists as they were unbound, impressed at the lack of rope burns. He folded his arms across his chest. "Let's hear it then."

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><p>She arrived in the Arl of Redcliffe's estate, filthy and road-weary. The cheval had been taken to the small stable, the poor beast ready to collapse from exhaustion. Leliana followed the servant through the estate, unconcerned for once that her boots were caked with mud and her riding leathers worn and splattered with dirt. It was hardly appropriate dress for the occasion but the urgency of the matter was such that she had no time to worry about propriety. She had ridden hard for days over the land to reach Denerim from Val Royeaux. The minute she heard the news she had set off.<p>

"Leliana?" Arl Eamon had not intended it to sound as a question but there it was.

"I came as soon as I heard, it's simply awful!" the bard said emotionally, "The news has spread quickly to Orlais and beyond," she went on, her blue eyes brimming with genuine tears, "Am I too late for the... funeral?"

Eamon shook his head, indicating for her to take a seat. The door opened again and Fergus Cousland and Nathaniel Howe entered, followed closely by Bann Teagan. "No, my dear. It is... worse than we thought."

"Worse? How could it possibly be worse?" Leliana asked, taking the offered seat.

"You are aware that Alistair was killed by an assassin of great skill?" Eamon said. Leliana nodded. "We... have evidence which suggests something unthinkable."

"Impossible, you mean," Fergus spat.

"Please, tell me. Alistair was a good friend, if there is anything at all I can do to help, I will do it."

"The blade used to kill him belonged to... to Aedan." Nathaniel offered.

Leliana shook her head in denial. "There's no way he would... are you certain?"

"The blade is his. One he was never seen without. As to whether he... no, but it is easy to see how it looks." Eamon said. "So far, all efforts to find him have failed. It is easy to lose a trail in the chaos our world is in. With the mage rebellion going on all around us... finding one man is quickly becoming impossible."

"I expect he will not be found unless he wishes to be. I have been searching for him for some time, but to no avail. There are... perhaps I should explain. I am a Seeker of the Divine, and she tasked me with finding Aedan. I lost the trail in Antiva, and I suspect he returned to Ferelden at some point. I had thought that his disappearance was linked to the disappearance of the Champion of Kirkwall, but perhaps I was wrong in this."

"What does the Divine want with Aedan?" Nathaniel asked.

"Not just Aedan, Marian Hawke as well. I think she wishes their aid in dealing with the mage rebellions, but perhaps there is more to it than that. As I understand it, Hawke helped start the whole thing. She stood with the mage Anders, even after all he did."

Eamon shook his head. "If things continue this way, we will all bring about our own ends. Is there... anything you can do?"

"As I said, I will do what I can to help find out who did this and bring them to justice."

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><p>It had taken a long time and they had talked late into the night but finally Aedan was sure he had Alistair convinced that his actions proved necessary. Alistair was naturally very unhappy with the situation, but Aedan apparently felt the same and that was enough to placate him. The conversation had moved on to other things, and Alistair had been wondering why this place was so familiar. It was dark, and the firelight created interesting shadows but it nudged at him incessantly.<p>

"Where are we?"

Aedan looked up from his brewing kit, he'd started creating more poisons, something he often did to calm himself and collect his thoughts. "The old werewolf lair," he said after a moment.

"In the Brecilian Forest?"

Aedan nodded. "It's well hidden and few dare venture here. Those travellers not impeded by the Dalish are put off by their tales of spirits and hauntings. Not so far from the truth, I suppose but it's safe enough."

"Still as creepy as I remember," Alistair noted with a shudder.

"The Veil is thin here, this place has seen much bloodshed," Anders volunteered, "Justice is... restless."

Aedan nodded again, unsurprised. Anders looked exhausted, and he had figured this was why. He needed the mage, however, and hoped the spirit would understand their purpose and remain quiescent. "The forest has been that way for a very long time, I believe. It's not unusual to come accross wild Sylvans, trees possessed by demons. Even they don't venture here, I think some essence of the Lady remains."

"Who's Justice?" Alistair asked curiously. Anders blanched and Aedan sighed and explained breifly how the spirit had become trapped outside of the Fade and his current association with Anders, akin to Wynne's situation but different. In truth it had taken a while for Aedan to understand himself, when he had come across Anders again he had not expected the broken man he had found. He was almost becoming used to it however, although he knew the spirit disapproved of his actions.

"Okay, this is... I'm just going to think of it like Wynne. Easier that way," Alistair said, a note of sadness in his voice. He missed her deeply, She had passed away years ago, but he thought of her often.

Zevran appeared at that point, frowning in concern. He had been outside awaiting the message from Denerim. Everyone turned to look at him, and Aedan in particular was worried about the expression on his lover's face.

"What's the matter?"

"I have news, and not all of it is good. Leliana is in Denerim, I believe she arrived with great haste, presumably after hearing the news of the King's untimely demise. Eamon has told her..."

"Oh. Shit."

"What? What's so bad about that?"

"Have you seen Leliana recently? Do you know what she is?" Aedan asked. Alistair shook his head.

"She is a Seeker of Truth, Sister Nightingale, the Divine's Left Hand. She is using her skills as a bard to serve the Chantry." Zevran explained.

"I can't say I'm surprised, but why is this bad?"

"It's bad because she has been hunting for me," Aedan said, "And I do not know why. I also know she is searching for the Champion of Kirkwall. I do not know if she can be trusted any longer."

"I ran into her in Kirkwall. Aedan was not with me, for which I am grateful, I did not have to lie when I told her I had no idea where he was. I had stayed to help Hawke, in gratitude for her assistance with a little problem with the Crows. You know of what transpired there I expect? Well, she had a copy of the Champion's story, written by Varric, and she wished for my assistance in locating Aedan."

"So you don't want her to find you?" Alistair summarised.

"No. As I said, I know not what she wants, but I suspect and it is something I am not willing to do," Aedan said glancing at Anders, "I will not help the Chantry against the mages. You know why."

Alistair sighed. "You can't possibly be thinking of siding against the Chantry, Aedan. That is madness!"

Aedan shook his head defiantly. "I'm not siding with anyone, that's the point! They got themselves into that mess, they can figure it out themselves. You know full well how I feel about how they operate, keeping mages imprisoned, their templars on leashes. They don't even know if that's what Andraste's words meant, they're interpreting things their own way for their own ends. Yet they lecture the rest of us often enough about corruption. I know corruption, I have seen plenty of it with my own eyes as you well know. The darkspawn are foul, but in the end they are just mindless animals. It's people, the ability to think and reason is what is most dangerous. Do you remember what Flemeth said when we were talking about Loghain? 'Men's hearts hold shadows darker than any tainted creature.' "

"Mi amor, calm yourself. It is no use getting angry," Zevran murmured, a gentle hand laid on Aedan's arm. The man sighed his agreement.

"They can't keep running to me every time there's a problem that needs fixing. If I am to intervene, it will be for my own reasons and my own choices. Such as what I did for you, Alistair. We have some very clever enemies out there, and I am concerning myself with them for the moment. As should you."

"Alright, so what's the next part of the plan?"

"Well, our plan has worked so far and the rumours of Aedan's involvement in Alistair's 'murder' have begun to spread despite Arl Eamon's attempts to keep it hush hush," Zevran explained.

"I think it is time for me to visit Denerim and find out if the rumours I have heard about our King's untimely death are true. We've arranged a safe-house in the Alienage, I don't want you to be far away, just in case..."

"In case of what exactly?"

"Well... something goes wrong?"

"Like the good Arl arresting you on sight?"

"It could happen. I just... want to be careful."


End file.
